


Between Sea and Sand

by FhimeChan



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Depression, Fairy Tale Elements, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M, MerMay, Merman!Hannibal, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-04-23 12:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19150915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FhimeChan/pseuds/FhimeChan
Summary: After killing a man, Will retires in a small house by the sea. There he meets a merman. This is their tale.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [broken_fannibal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/broken_fannibal/gifts), [My_Soul_and_Perfume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Soul_and_Perfume/gifts).



> This AU had been posted on tumblr during the last year, so that the posting timeline and the story timeline overlapped.  
> Initially I only wanted to give some notes, but the story quickly spiralled out of control and became a properly written fanfiction, conquering its place on AO3. While some parts are rough, I decided that there was a certain charm in the blunt phrasing and I decided not to edit it. I hope you enjoy my descent into proper writing!
> 
> I'll post a month every day. It's unbetaed, feel free to point out any mistakes!

  * Alternative Universe where Will actually kills that man in New Orleans, and he enjoys it.
  * As soon as he files the death report, he quits his job. He goes to live in an isolated house by the ocean, where he fishes to survive.
  * He doesn’t see anybody except for the bored employees down at the convenience store. He doesn’t speak to them. He avoids eye contact.
  * He’s… content. The sea soothes him, During the day he can almost forget the moment of quiet exultation as he shot the man. He wakes up after bloody dreams with the reassurance there’s nobody around to hurt. 
  * He isn’t surprised as he sees a face in the water - a face with dangerous fangs and on the verge of biting him. He imagines how it would feel to snap someone’s neck under those teeth, and extends his hand to touch them. The creature’s eyes widen, and in a blink he’s gone. 
  * Will wonders if it was a hallucination. It wouldn’t be the first time. The dreams changes slightly: from guns and knifes to teeth and claws. Still bloody. Still too appealing.
  * He flinches away as the new owner of the shop tries to shake his hand. He barely restrains his instinct to push him against the wall and bite; he mutters an apology and runs away.
  * He sees the creature again after roughly a week, while he’s gutting some fish. Will is on the small pier in front of his house; the creature is underwater and keeps some distance, eyeing him with curiosity. Will sees the concealed hunger and lets his hand dip into the water, elbow deep. 
  * They stay still. Will feels the underwater current gently caress his fingers. He imagines to be dragged into the ocean, to disappear, eaten by the creature. His eyes close. It would be peaceful. 
  * He feels warm water around his fingers. He keeps his eyes shut, and smiles, bracing himself for the first bite. The warmth disappears, and when he opens his eyes the creature is gone. 
  * He goes back to his house, cooks the fish and eats it. Then he picks up some water (better not to die of dehydration), strips down to his boxer and heads to the beach. He waits. 
  * After a couple of hours he sees a tail flickering just above the surface. He goes into the water and swims towards it. 
  * They meet in between, as Will’s lungs burn for the lack of air and the creature’s tail scratches the sand in an effort to move closer, closer.
  * They look alike as the water sustains them, symmetrical discomforts irrelevant, differences in limbs forgettable. Will can see the recognition in the creature’s eyes. 
  * Will extends his hand, longing for a long-denied touch, knowing the danger. There is hunger hidden behind the creature’s eyes. 
  * Will’s heart increases its pace, as the creature scrutinizes him. Will’s body aches for the lack of oxygen. 
  * Finally, he comes closer, extending his hand. Will takes it, the skin crawling under the touch of his life-long companion. 




	2. June

  * The first week goes by without any changes. Will fishes in the morning and joins the creature into the water in the afternoon; they hold hands. He knows it’s stupid, pointless really, but he likes to feel the texture of cold and slippery scales under his fingers and the weight of the creature’s gaze. The idea of just disappearing under the water is a big part of the appeal.
  * The second week, Will accidentally makes eye contact. Nothing happens. The creature holds his gaze, steady, impenetrable. Will has no idea if he is about to lash out, or if he is simply bored. Will swallows, relieved.
  * The creature keeps watching him with a smile after Will drops his gaze. A prey searching for his presence day after day is still an interesting novelty. He allows the burning touch for a little longer.
  * The third week the weather is terrible. Will uses the time to go to the convenience store. He is about to exit without a word, as usual, when a fragment of conversation freezes him into place. The owner is telling a woman about his large fish tank and the gloves he uses not to hurt the rare fishes with the heat of his body.
  * Will has to wait until the end of the month for the weather to open. He feels full of nervous energy. To keep himself occupied, he cleans the house, discarding the layers of dirt he hasn’t bothered to clean during the last… months? Years? He spends a lot of time under the cold water of the shower, imagining it’s the ocean. 
  * Finally, it’s a sunny day. Will goes to the beach in the morning, carrying a pair of gloves.
  * The face of the creature as he spots the gloves is an unmistakable frown. They hold hands, as usual, but something is off. Will can’t relax, not even if he can now hold his breath much more easily. His gaze keep skirting over the creature, the tense muscles of his forearm, the curve and length of his teeth… his eyes. Even if his empathy doesn’t flare with sensations, he can read the disappointment in the creature’s eyes.
  * And that’s the moment when it hits Will. The creature is a person. He has thoughts. He has emotions. Will already knew that, of course, but it’s now that the flash of clarity has him reconsider what he’s doing. Spending day after day waiting for a brief moment when he can hold hands with an overgrown fish, who is now judging him. Why is he even there?
  * He lets go and breaks over the surface to catch his breath. He turns to swim to the shore, but he feels a hand catching his wrist, over the glove. He pushes forward, but the creature is strong and doesn’t let go. Exasperated, he dives back into the water.
  * The creature waits until Will is looking at him, then slowly removes Will’s gloves. They float away, lost to the sea. The gaze of contempt on the creature’s face as he watches the current carrying them away is so out of place in a wild fish-person that Will snorts.
  * At the noise the creature looks at him, crinkles around his eyes. He shifts to hold Will’s hand, intertwining their fingers. His skin is ice cold, and exactly what Will needs.
  * The next day, for the first time, the creature is already waiting for Will when he arrives on the beach, carrying only his water bottle. He smiles and dives into the water.




	3. July

  * After the glove accident, Will’s curiosity towards the creature is picked. Skin contact is inadequate; Will wants to know what is hidden under the creature’s inscrutable eyes. He spends the evenings wondering about possible means of communication, instead of looking at the ocean and sleeping.
  * The first attempt is simply yelling “Hello!!!” from the shore, which makes Will feel very stupid. The creature must think the same, because he doesn’t even spare a splash of his tale in answer.
  * The second attempt is similar, but Will waits for them to be touching before putting his head above the water and saying again, “Hello.” He can see the creature’s mouth curl in distaste, and rules out this possibility. He squeezes lightly the creature’s hand as he dives back again. He almost loses his grip as he feels the creature squeezing back. The merman tilts his head, a gesture incomprehensible but that still elicits Will’s smile.
  * The next day Will drives to the store, bracing himself for a conversation. He’s baffled when the young woman at the cash register smiles and waves at him before he could utter a world.



 

> “Oh, hello! I’m so glad you’re not him. :D”  
>  “Him? :O”  
>  “Oh, I’m sorry, I always talk too much. I’m Jenny, nice to meet you, dear customer, even if technically it’s not an introduction because I remember you, since you always come here for all your groceries! …oh, you asked about ‘him’. With the last terrible storm, a man went missing. Do you have a boat? Oh, sorry, maybe you just wanted to shop alone as usual. I’ll shut up now. Sorry. >_<”  
>  “…”  
>  “Sorry again!”  
>  “Jenny… Do you have something to learn sign language?”  
>  “Yes, strangely! You know, there’s a deaf kid down in town ad his parents once decided to… Oh, sorry again. Yes, there is a full course on CDs.”  
>  “Don’t you have something on paper?”  
>  “…maybe… flashcards? They’re for kids, but my mum always tell me… OH I’M SORRY! I don’t know what came into me today, it’s just that you’re… Sorry. I’ll bury myself now.”  
>  “I’ll buy the CDs and the flashcards.”

  * Will walks out of the shop with the weird sensation of having had a full conversation while barely pronouncing few words. As Jenny waves at him across the glass, he decides it isn’t unpleasant.
  * At home he wraps each flashcard into a plastic film, hoping they’ll resist the salty water long enough to learn the signs. Somehow he knows that the creature will be a quick study.   
At least, if he’ll accept to try.
  * It’s with trepidation that he walks to the beach, carrying an elastic with the flashcards. As he spots the creature and swims closer, he sees curiosity on his face, not annoyance as for the gloves.
  * When they are face to face, Will signs hello, and shows the corresponding flashcard to the creature. The merman stands still for few seconds, puzzled and wrongfooted. Still not annoyed, though.
  * Will catches his eyes, and signs again,  _hello_ , as his lungs protest.  
  * The creature signs back. When Will’s breaks the surface to breath, he feels his cheeks tenting into a smile.
  * From that day on they spend the time practicing with the flashcards, and Will is happy he has bought  _a lot_  of them since they progress quickly.
  * It’s intimate, because they need to look at each other closely as they sign. Will is oddly comfortable with the situation and endlessly fascinated by the micro expressions crossing the merman’s face.   
Considering the intensity of those eyes on him, the feeling seems to be returned.
  * The evenings become less and less unfocused, since Will spends his time at his old laptop - a relic of his time as a cop - learning how to sign abstract concepts, thinking of possible explanations to give the creature. He goes to sleep exhausted enough not to dream.
  * Yes, the creature is a quick study, and in few days they can manage short conversations. One of the first sentence of the creature is, “I, happy, talk,” and Will takes it as a sign that they can pass to step B, which means that Will screams the complete alphabet while signing it just behind the surface of the water. This time the creature allows the gesture, even if he keeps his face blank during the ordeal, which Will can now recognise as annoyance. They go on until Will can sign, “I, W-i-l-l.”  
The creature nods, straightening his tale, and signs, “H-a-n-n-i-b-a-l.” Will isn’t surprised by the creature’s pretentious name, nor by the adamant refusal of adopting any other shorter sign to refer to himself.  
  * The learning sessions don’t leave much time for actual conversations, but the satisfied flicker of the creature as they progress is gratifying enough not to stop. They still hold hands when they’re finished, Will often smiling.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About Sign Language:  
> \- They learn way too fast because they're both geniuses  
> \- I only know what I read on wikipedia. If there are mistakes, let me know. I don’t want to disrespect anyone, I just don’t know much about the topic.  
> \- If opening his mouth or doing a difficult movement underwater was required by the classical sign, Will found a clever alternative. Their language is quite personalized.  
> \- Will didn’t bother with formal pronouns, first because he wanted to keep it simple, then because it seemed ridiculous after being informal for so long. This affects Hannibal’s speech, at least at the beginning.


	4. August

  * The policeman on the beach comes as a shock. Will is frozen in place while half forgotten visions of guns and blood fill his mind. He lingers, considering to just go home, but when the man scrutinizes the sea he almost runs towards him.
  * Will approaches the officer channeling the confidence of someone’s else. From the resulting conversation he discovers that someone disappeared in the storm or the previous night, and that the police is looking for a body, or a lead, or anything useful. Will tells him there are rocks south, maybe it’d be a good starting point for a search?
  * As the officer squints at the horizon to see the rocks, Will signals towards the sea “go away”.
  * After few more words the officer heads south, and Will is left alone with a sense of crushing guilt. In the heat the pendulum swings. Sweat changes into something thicker, redder, running through his hands. He isn’t sure of the meaning of it, but the metallic reflection of the red liquid is mesmerizing.
  * Forcing a blank mind, trying to get away from whatever he’s seeing, Will goes into the water and swims. And swims. And swims.
  * As the bloody visions fade away, all his left is fear and emptiness. Nobody’s there in the water, of course, and in the absence his thoughts change as they please, drowning him in loneliness. Why should he deceive himself, nobody would care for him. He may just become the next disappeared man. His muscles ache, and he’s far away from the shore. Too far to go back. Good. Peaceful, not to have to decide anymore. He keeps swimming to nowhere, away, farther away.
  * Something grips his ankle and drags him back towards the shore.  
Hannibal carries him until Will’s feet touch soft sand and his tale is scratching the seabed. Under the surface, Hannibal nudges Will forward, trying to direct him towards the shore.
  * Will clings to him, blindly catching Hannibal’s arms and then diving underwater to curl his body around the merman.  
Hannibal trashes, scratches Will in an attempt to separate them, but Will closes his eyes and opens his mouth, letting the ocean in, letting Hannibal in, hoping somehow the pain will get away.  
Hannibal’s hands are in his hair, trying to push Will somewhere, it’s impossible to tell if up or down, and Will’s lungs burn.
  * Then the arms tightens on his back, and Hannibal hugs him as both their heads break across the surface.  
Will splutters, coughing the salty water out, while Hannibal soothes him with gentle circling motions on his back, his sides, his hair.
  * Slowly, Will comes back to himself enough to open his eyes. He finds himself face to face with Hannibal, who is wearing a carefully blank expression. Will blinks away the water. The first coherent thought is that he has never noticed that Hannibal’s eyes are so red and beautiful.
  * Then reality catches up with him and he stays still, awkward, trying not to hyperventilate. What would Hannibal think of him now? He’s so useless.  
He tries to jerk away, but Hannibal stops him with a gentle touch on his cheek. Above the surface, Hannibal’s skin is even colder, and centers Will. Hannibal caresses his face and goes back underwater.
  * The spell is broken, normality comes back, and after a moment Will dives back into the water and pretends it’s just another afternoon spent without thinking and squeezing Hannibal’s hand.
  * No amount of pretense is enough to prevent the dreams to come back.
  * Will is up early the next morning, not having slept enough. He breaths more easily when he reaches the water.
  * Hannibal comes close while Will is fishing.  
Will eyes him, “You’re scaring the fishes away.”  
Hannibal raises an eyebrow, as a fish swims under his arm and swallows the lure.  
Will catches it, then glares at Hannibal. Hannibal glares back.
  * They both break down laughing. Or at least, Will laughs and Hannibal grins, closes his eyes and shakes.
  * When the laughter stops, Will signs, “I always fish alone.”  
“And I always swim alone. You don’t need to talk to me, I’ll just stand there”  
“Checking I don’t try to drown myself again”  
“Yes”
  * Will is annoyed and touched, but he doesn’t really know how to send Hannibal away. If he is sincere he’s more touched than annoyed though.
  * That afternoon, Hannibal interrupts their signing lesson saying, ‘I’ll show you how to swim properly. No more drowning for you’. Will widens his eyes, searching Hannibal’s impassible face for a revealing emotion, but there’s nothing, as usual. He almost blushes and can only take that gesture at face value.
  * Will discovers soon swimming with Hannibal involves a lot of muscle pain, gentle touching and half hugs. He lets himself be transported away from the shore, clinging to Hannibal.




	5. September

  * Their interactions change, a small but unmistakable shift. Hannibal revolves around Will, often sticking around while he fishes, waiting for him, carefully guiding him through more and more complex swimming styles.
  * He also asks a lot of questions.  
“Why don’t you go to work?”  
Strangely enough, Will finds himself saying the truth. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”  
Hannibal blinks, processing the information. Will looks away, afraid of judgment. Lately Hannibal is letting his emotions show on his face. A hand on his arm gets his attention again.
  * Will emerges, buying some time, wary of quips like ‘not even yourself?’ or ‘isn’t it because you want to kill anyone?’.  
After a deep breath he looks at Hannibal, still underwater.  
Hannibal says, “You aren’t.”
  * Will stares, not knowing what to answer but feeling suddenly light. And guilty. “I dream of killing.”  
No visible reaction. The water distorts a bit Hannibal’s face. “It’s out of your control.”  
Will swallows, “Dreams, not nightmares.”  
Hannibal touches Will’s knee with his tail and keeps a gentle pressure. It relaxes Will. Hannibal says, “You aren’t killing anyone. Dreams are out of your control. You should stop…” He pauses, frowning and trying to remember the gesture. “…berating yourself with things you can’t control.”
  * Will is about to protest further, but Hannibal takes his hands and leads him underwater, then through a deep dive with a backflip. He was serious about teaching Will not to drown.



* * *

  * It’s late evening when Will manages to ask the question which was irking at the back of his mind. “Can you get out of the water?”  
“No.” Hannibal’s face closes off.
  * Will doesn’t notice, because he’s thinking that in September the water is colder. If Hannibal can’t leave the water…they won’t be able to keep this routine for long. He doesn’t want to let go of those moments.
  * Will says, “I won’t be here, tomorrow.” This time he’s watching. He sees Hannibal’s eyes narrowing slightly. He hurries to explain. “I need to buy something. I can come here in the late evening.”  
The cold attitude vanishes. “No. We can see each other the day after tomorrow.” Will feels disappointed, until Hannibal adds, “It’s cold.”
  * And knowing that Hannibal is sharing part of his thoughts is enough to make Will smile as he comes home.



* * *

  * The day after, he goes to the shop, where he finds the same girl of months before, Jenny.  
“Oh, hello! I’m glad you’re not…”  
“…drowned. Yes I know.”  
“Sorry!!! It’s just that another man disappeared, and you don’t come here often, and so I…”
  * Will waits until she finished her explanation, before asking, “Is there anyone whose boat need fixing?”  
“Mmmm… The Perkinson’s… Rodney’s small one… Probably others if I ask Betty.”  
“I can fix them. How can I contact them?”  
Jenny beams at him. “I knew it! You have that look about yourself! Oh… Right… Why can’t you leave me your number? I can text you if I found you someone.”
  * Will is stunned. That was easy.
  * The girl adds, “And I can check that you didn’t drown!”



* * *

  * When he sees Hannibal again, the merman asks him if the day after he wants to swim earlier. Will agrees.
  * He lets Hannibal tug him along the shore, understanding from Hannibal’s focus they’re going somewhere specific.
  * They arrives to a partially submerged cave, and Hannibal ushers him inside with the movements of a polite host showing off his house. The cave extends both inside and outside the water. There’s soft seaweed in a corner, while small crystals are aligned along a wall. There are dark tunnels bringing somewhere else, underwater.
  * Will is suddenly hit by a vision of red teeth munching in the darkness, but decisively pushes it away. This isn’t the time for his dreams.
  * Hannibal is looking at him expectantly.  
“It’s… your home.”  
Hannibal smiles. “You can come here when it’s raining or cold.”
  * Will has no idea what his face is doing. He feels hot and cold at the same time. He holds tightly Hannibal’s hand and basks in the smile he sees on the merman. Tentatively, he leans closer and hugs him. Hannibal moves so that Will’s head is above the water - Will chuckles - then his arm comes to rest around Will. Who clings.
  * When he leaves, he walks out of the cave, impressing the tortuous path on his memory. Hannibal watches him going, considering his gamble. Even if he can fend off few attackers, giving away the position of his home wasn’t wise. Yet, he can’t regret it, not knowing he has gained more time with Will. The man is fascinating in his naive trust and underlying darkness.



* * *

  * That evening, when he gets home, Will finds a message. ‘Found you a client. Jenny.’ A phone number follows.
  * Will actually calls it and arranges for a boat to be taken to his home in the following days. He smiles, wondering if with his plan he’ll manage to lure a surprised expression out of Hannibal.  




	6. October

The boat arrives the following day early in the morning. Will starts to work at it immediately, but keeps an eye on the water to catch Hannibal’s arrival. After a while, he senses movement, and turns in time to see the slight hesitation before Hannibal swims closer. Will smiles. Already more than he hoped for.

Hannibal affects nonchalance. Will plays along, pretending not to understand the question implied in Hannibal’s greeting.

In the end, Hannibal gives up. He thumps on the dock to catch Will’s attention and signs, “No more fishing?”

Will signs, “Later.” He savours few more second of Hannibal’s puzzlement, then signs, “I decided to pick up my old job again.”

“Why?”

Will considers affecting indifference, but no. He can’t. Not on this.

“You.”

Hannibal smiles.

* * *

Fixing the engine looks easier than he expected. He text in quick succession the owner, letting him know he’ll finish in four days, and Jenny, confirming his order. Then he switches off his phone and joins Hannibal in the water, shivering. Hannibal keeps him moving, and when they stop he drags Will quickly towards the docks, where there’s a towel.

* * *

The owner of the boat comes and goes under a light morning rain. Hannibal appears as soon as he is gone, and signs to Will that it’s too cold to swim.

Will takes the occasion to go to the shop without raising suspicion.

Jenny waves at him and dives under the counter to collect his package. Will takes it with glee. It’s a winter wetsuit. He can’t wait to show up in front of Hannibal in it.

Jenny doesn’t intrude in his happiness with her question, she stays silent with a small smile on her lips. Will wonders if his own awkwardness had fed hers. Maybe if he relaxed they could have a normal conversation?

Will internally deliberates for a moment, then says, “Thank you. Please tell me if someone else needs a repair.” It would be nice to be able to buy something more. Maybe he can get an oxygen tank… or a heater for Hannibal’s shelter. His smile widens, and Jenny’s answers in kind. It’s easy to speak with her today.

He’s almost on the door when he notices a shelf of posters of local attractions. On an impulse, he turns and asks, “Do you have anything about local wildlife?” He winces at how it rings and amends. “Or myths?” Still wrong word, but he can’t do better.

Jenny’s eyes shine,, “Looking for a mermaid, Graham?”

He blushes, but she kindly ignores it, “Don’t worry, there are plenty or mermaids legends here. In fact, today I ordered a long list of zoological and mythological books. Look, this one,” Jenny pointed to her laptop, “should be exactly what you want. Want me to add a copy? You won’t even have to pay for the shipping.”

Will hesitates, again not believing it has been that simple. On autopilot, his mouth says, “You’re awfully confident today.” He regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth, but she laughs.

“Yeah, I suppose so. It’s that the owner of this shop praised me.” She winks. “Plus, it’s more difficult to be intimidated by you when you go around daydreaming with that smitten smile.”

A moment of silence, then she turns bright red and staggers, “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to-”

Will breaks into a laud, genuine laugh, “It’s okay.”

He’s still smiling when he goes out.

* * *

When Will shows up that afternoon, Hannibal’s face doesn’t know how to arrange itself. Will wants to touch his frown. Instead he flips, showing off. “Well?”

Hannibal for once is perfectly readable. He is half appalled at the material covering Will’s skin and half appreciating the protection against the cold it offers. In the end, he settles for, “Today I’ll teach you the butterfly stroke.”

Will emerges to laugh, brushing affectionately Hannibal’s shoulders.

* * *

There are more boats requiring repairs than Will anticipated, and by the end of October he can afford a heater, a sleeping bad and a camping stove to leave inside Hannibal’s cave. Jenny asks him if he wants them delivered, so Will don’t need to waste his precious time with Hannibal.

Will brings everything to the cave, included a collection of towels and blankets he takes from his house. They celebrate the purchase cooking some fish.

Will plates the cooked meat, then hesitates. He has bought two plates without thinking about it, and now he regrets it.

Hannibal doesn’t wait. He surfaces and extends his hand. His expression is blank, which tells Will the importance of the moment. Barely containing the disbelief, Will gives him a roasted fish.

Will looks closely as Hannibal takes a tentative morsel of the fish and… shivers in pleasure. He can’t seem to help a big smile as he eats the rest, and Will. Will feels himself. Blushing. And smiling like an idiot. And keeping eye contact.

* * *

Hannibal stays with his head above the surface after the meal, staring intently at Will. He signs, “You are more comfortable than at the beginning, and I’m not only speaking about our interactions. Did your dreams improve?”

Will smiles, loose and happy. He moves his hand to card through Hannibal’s hair. It is soft and Hannibal tips his head towards his fingers. Despite the heavy topic, Will can’t master any worries. “No, actually they got worse.” He looks at the underwater cave. His violent dreams are often set in there, probably because the place is starting to feel like home. “But I don't want to kill people, and I’m not doing it.”

Hannibal nods in acknowledgement. Then he asks an unexpected question. “Why is it so important?”

Will thinks about it. “Because... because there are lines. Even if I don't feel them, I know they are. I understand why they are. And I don't want to cross them.”

Hannibal looks intrigued. “Even if death is deserved?”

“I don't know. That's what I don't want to discover.” Will chuckles. “It should be easy while I’m hiding in this abandoned corner of the world.”

Hannibal turns his head as if he had an objection, but doesn’t speak and doesn’t stray away from the touch. Will keeps petting him until it’s late and he needs to go home.

He dreams the cave, slowly filling with blood as long teeth pierce him.

* * *

He wakes up to his mobile ringing. It’s a text from Jenny. “Hey, another disappearance, still not you? :D Btw, I have your book! No delivery until next week though...”

He looks out of the window, and it’s raining, so he drives to the shop. Jenny gives him a warm smile and a heavy leathered book. It looks ancient.

Will pays for it absentmindedly, then goes inside his car. He glances between the road ahead and the book. Just 10 minutes can’t hurt, right?

There’s one entire section about mermaids, and Will starts to read from the chapter titled “Genesis”.


	7. November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bonus chapter, which j9-j9 graciously beta'ed :)

_ Once upon a time, there was a family.  _

_ A father, a mother, a sister, a brother. They lived happily by the shore in a big, solid house over a cliff.  _

_ They loved each other deeply, but the most loved was the youngest, the sister. She had hair black as the deepest depths of the sea, skin white as a newborn pearl, and eyes blue and clear as the ocean.  _

_ The brother treasured her young sister more than anything; more than the frothy sea, more than his own life.They played together on the shore, the small footprints of the young girl always close to the brother’s bigger ones. They built sand castles, ephemeral and beautiful, always rebuilt, always destroyed. They braided each other’s hair with shells and seaweed.  _

_ They played in the water, and their laughters echoed over the sea, heard for miles and miles, heard and echoed by the proud parents in every moment of their daily work. _

_ But their happiness was about to be destroyed.  _

_ One night, as the sea was black as ink, the men came.  _

_ They robbed, they killed, they kidnapped.  _

_ They laughed and escaped.  _

_ The brother, mad with sorrow, stared at the fleeting boat, carrying away his little sister.  _

_ He plunged from the cliff.  _

_ He swam, desperate as the boat run farther and father, his limbs becoming heavier and heavier as he followed his sister. But his efforts brought him closer and closer to the escaping boat, to his treasure.  _

_ The robbers saw him coming and blood became ice in their veins. They felt death approaching, breathing on their bared napes.  _

_ They acted as desperate men, and threw the sister into the ocean.  _

_ The young girl was a good swimmer; but she was tired after the long day and she was tiny, unaccustomed to the strong currents of the open sea.  _

_ Her perlaceous skin glimmered one last time in the moonlight, her black hair scattered in the black sea. The first wave covered her, then another, and another and another.  _

_ The brother, watching her slide under, cursed. His fury surpassed the one of the ocean. His legs, uselessly splashing into the water, morphed into a powerful tail. His hands, aching and cold, freezed and small layers grew between his fingers. His teeth grew sharper and longer.  _

_ The brother, burning with rage, swam to his sister with all the speed granted by his new powerful shape… but it was too late.  _

_ The brother sat on the ocean floor, his dead sister black and pearl in his palmed hands, and cursed the robbers.  _

_ He killed, he killed, he killed.  _

_ Strengthened by the blood of his victims, sustained by a rage that no ocean could sate, the brother declared war to mankind. No boats, no ships are safe from his rage.  _

_ And still he swims, alone, cursing the cause of his loneliness.   _


	8. December

Will closes the book and stares blindly at the street in front of him, trying not to think. There’s a soft thud. A man his knocking on the window of his car. Will vaguely remember he’s the shop owner and rolls the window down. 

“Hey, are you the famous ‘Will Graham’ Jenny keeps blabbering about?

Will nods, avoiding eye contact. 

“I have a boat to fix, but I can’t move it. It’s a long job, I think. Are you interested?”

After a moment of hesitation, Will said yes. 

* * *

They drive to a boatshed at the base of a cliff. On the cliff there’s the owner’s - George’s - large house. Will is glad he doesn’t need to drive there; the boathouse is supplied with any tool he may need.

After looking at the boat, Will agrees that he will likely need the whole month to work on it. George isn’t concerned about the long wait, he only needs the boat running in January or February. He mentions something about a scientific team, but Will isn’t listening. 

He accepts the job. 

* * *

November passes in a blur, with Will driving everyday away from his house to the boatshed. He mechanically fixes piece after piece, keeping away from Hannibal and hearing the motor boats of the police speed along the shore. They try to find out where the disappeared men went. 

Will knows it. 

He doesn’t want to think about it. 

And so he doesn’t think. 

He still dreams, it’s inevitable. Every night Hannibal drags him in the dark underwater cave, and there kisses Will, his long teeth tearing his meat apart until only the bones are left. 

* * *

The engine eventually works. Will is done. George says he owns him a daily trip, in the new year, when all the instrumentation will be inside the boat, and Will agrees only because he doesn’t want to prolong the conversation. 

He goes home, but nothing’s there, except for the flashcards soaked in seawater and the book. Will doesn’t want to stay. He goes out again, takes the car, drives to the shop out of habit. 

He stops in the parking lot, considering why he’s making an effort to snap out of it, to recover; why couldn’t he just… keep driving until the road ends, the car goes underwater and he drowns? But Hannibal lives underwater. He would be sad. Probably. Not that it matters, Will would simply be one more dead person. Hannibal wouldn’t care. Except Will knows he would. 

Jenny taps on his window. “Will? Hello! What a pleasure to see you-”

Will turns towards her. 

She stares. 

Then, “Come have a coffee with me.”

It isn’t a question, and it’s what Will needs. There’s a cafe close by, they go there. 

* * *

Jenny says, “What did your partner do?”

Will blinks at the careful neutral wording. Then at the content. He considers denying, asking for explanations, but… yeah, Jenny’s assumption isn’t so far fetched. Not that her insight helps him finding an answer. What is he supposed to say?

Jenny waits calmly, drinking her tea. She added honey in it and smiles involuntarily at every sip.

Will tries, “He lied… He was not…” He stops. Then he enunciates, “He omitted an important information. Something I care very much about. Purposefully.”

“Have you decided what to do about it?”

Will looks at the sugar packet. There’s a mermaid printed on it. “No.”

“Do you want to break up?”

Will fiddles with the packet. “I should.”   
“It isn’t a yes.”

Will doesn’t answer. He can’t make himself tear the paper.  

Jenny says, “Yeah, I suspected that.” She takes delicately the sugar packet from his fingers, then catches his hands. Will looks up, startled. Her eyes are kind. 

“You two really need to talk about this.”

* * *

Will must do one more thing before talking. He isn't sure if he's trying to gather information or simply to delay the confrontation. 

He tells himself that maybe the tale was just that; a tale. He can believe it if the rest of the chapter goes on and blabbers about Disney-shaped mermaids. And so he opens the book again. 

It doesn't blabber. The book’s a collection of local legends, and only talks about one single merman. Always alone, always male. It fits.

It says that the merman’s power comes from the water, and that he'll lose it if he emerges. No surprise, Hannibal has told Will so. It’s said that the merman can lure his prey with his voice, that he's strong, intelligent, always out of reach.

Will takes it all in a stride. He wonders what it means that Hannibal never used his voice to control him. That he broke over the surface to help him.

In a sudden flash of clarity, Will realizes that Hannibal shouldn't have been able to spell his name, that first time they talk. He curses. That’s proof the tale is real.

He covers his eyes with his hands. He should alert the authorities. Maybe he’d find the same policeman he had already talked to, on the beach. After the policeman left, Hannibal saved him from drowning. Will pulls distractedly his hair. 

Hannibal has shared his home with him. Has emerged just to share a meal. 

Will knows he should call 911, and knows he won't.

* * *

In the end, it feels exactly like any other morning. Will picks up his new suit and Hannibal is there in the water waiting for him. They greet each other. Will fishes. They swim. 

The water is cold, cold and soothing like the merman’s touch. Will allows himself to fall back into the numbness of the first period of their… acquaintance? Friendship? He closes his eyes and lets go of the sudden agitation. Weird he has never thought Hannibal could kill him for knowing his secret. He can’t believe it, he feels safe. 

Hannibal for his part is inscrutable, and Will isn’t used to that anymore. He can’t decide between wanting to break the news in the most disruptive way and the desire to let go, to pretend nothing has happened. 

The day runs off before he decides, and Hannibal betrays a hint of hesitation in his touch as he silently stirs Will towards his cave. Will lets himself go, as always, but can’t repress a shiver as he sees the dark underwater passage. He pales. 

Hannibal lets Will go out of the water, wrap himself into a towel, start the fire. Hannibal hovers between the exit and Will. He gets halfway out of the water to stare at Will. That last action is what breaks the silence. 

Will says, aloud, not bothering with signs. “I know.”

Hannibal’s silent, and Will fears he’ll lie, he’ll pretend he doesn’t understand… Will can handle death, can’t handle lies. He realizes he has picked up a knife. He fidgets with it, imagining…

A movement on the corner of his vision, and Hannibal signs, “Do you care?”

Will turns the knife until the blade reflects his eyes. He won’t lie either. “No.” A dry sob, then a whisper. “But I feel betrayed.”

He has to look at Hannibal to see the answer. Hannibal signs, “Don't pretend you didn't know from the beginning.” Will winces. “You saw my teeth. You sent that officer away.”

“Yes.” It’s kind of easy to say it while looking into Hannibal’s deep red eyes. “I knew.”

“Then I must inquire as to why you remain with me. You should be aware of the dangers.” Hannibal bares his teeth, threatening. Will sees right through him. 

“Bullshit.” And he feels the same, that’s the problem. “I’m here… I’m here because I can't give you up.” The knife falls to the ground as Will sits abruptly, hugging himself. He murmurs. “I'm so ashamed of myself.”

Hannibal is impassive. “You shouldn’t be. My behaviour is out of your control. If if makes you feel better, you're enough of a diversion that my body count went down in the last months.” Colloquial fast paced words. Hannibal must be agitated, even if his face shows nothing as he signs, “You're saving lives.”

Will doesn’t deign that rhetoric chain of rubbish with an answer. Instead, he asks, “Why do you care?”

“I don't care about my victims.” Will winces at the blunt honesty. “But I care about your life.” 

Too raw. Will closes his eyes. “Those people you kill... How do you choose them?” 

Hannibal waits for him to open them again to sign, “They resemble people I met once.”

“Are they murderers?” Will’s voice trembles. 

Hannibal doesn’t flinch. “I don't know. I don't care.”

Will pulls his hair again, a touch of restrained hysteria in his tone. “Why do I have to care about you?”

“You don’t have to. And yet here we are.”

The silence stretches. Hannibal slowly moves closer, extending a hand towards the solid ground where Will is still sitting. Will grabs it and holds on. The touch calms him instantly, as always. 

He whispers, “You know. I can't let... You. Next time.”

Hannibal comes closer, signing awkwardly not to let go of Will’s hand. Will can barely read the answer. 

“I know. You know I won't let you stop me.” 

Will feels as if it the matter is out of his hands. He leans towards Hannibal, who starts to massage his hair. The sensation is amazing, out of the water. He says, “This will end in bloodshed.”

“It will. Until then.”

Until then it’s peaceful. 

* * *

The time with Hannibal increases in magnitude, engulfing Will’s whole life. Every day they spend together could be their last. 

Will is happy. 

* * *

Christmas brings a sprinkle of snow. They hole up inside theirs - Hannibal’s - cave, and Will makes hot chocolate for both of them. Hannibal takes the steaming cup with a frown, then after the first sip he breaks into a giddy smile. 

Will stays with his legs in the cold water for as long as he could, just to feel Hannibal’s torso gently leaning against his knees. 


	9. January

It's almost midnight. While their routine hasn’t changed, with the new year approaching Will can't shake off a sense of quiet anticipation.

Will is sitting on a nest of blankets, close to a small heater. The cave is almost warm, protective darkness broken only by the single ray of a flashlight. It may be snowing outside; the water is icy cold. Will doesn't care, he isn't planning to come back home, not tonight.

There aren't any sounds except for the gentle murmur of the waves.

Hannibal is lying on a submerged rock, torso completely out of water. He seems to wait too, eyes closed. He doesn't fidget like Will, even if it may be because he doesn't have anything to fidget with. 

They haven't really talked since Will came back.

Will suddenly wants to know what’s in Hannibal's mind. 

He clears his throat, waiting for Hannibal to open his eyes. The redness is deeply calm. It may mean Hannibal has made a decision. It may mean nothing. 

Will signs, "How can you be so calm?"

"Years are a human construct; the waves don’t care."

"Yet we need to define our boundaries. Where a period ends, when another begins."

Hannibal inclines his head. "One phase of our friendship has already ended."

"We're like snowflakes lying on the ground, about to melt yet still intact. There won't be another phase of our friendship, only an inevitable decay."

"If we are called to define our own boundaries, we can give a name to the status we’re in."

"That wouldn't change the inevitability of our end." Will closes his eyes, not wanting to see another one of Hannibal's replies. "There's only destruction in front of us."

A splash, and then Hannibal takes his hand. After everything, it's still reassuring.

* * *

Few days later, they’re sipping chocolate again, and Will pretends they’re back to normal. Just for a little while longer. 

Hannibal, halfway out of the water, rests his head on Will’s lap. He puts his mug down and signs, “You could just let me do it. You don’t have to know.”

So much for normalcy. 

Yet Will can not summon more than a slight frown. Hannibal closes his eyes, so Will replies with his voice, saying aloud, “I would know.”

Hannibal’s smile is fond. Unguarded. He doesn’t open his eyes as he keep signing. “Yes, you would, wouldn’t you?” At the end of the gesture, his hand brushes WIll’s knee, caressing it over the swimming suit. “You could…”

Will tenses. Hannibal must have felt it, because he stops and lets the conversation trail off. He turns and takes both of Will’s hands, intertwining their fingers, staring into Will’s eyes. 

Will thinks something changes, then. Hannibal looks focused, but strangely remote, and doesn’t try to speak again.

* * *

Will sleeps in the cave, nested in blankets. Hannibal watches over him, unable to sleep.

He has dropped a conversation about murders because he didn’t want to upset Will.

He had not seen that emotion coming, and now he’s drowning in it. It’s terrifying.

* * *

The morning after, as soon as Will opens his eyes, Hannibal signs, “I can actually leave the water, but I become weaker the longer I stay out. I think those are the only moments when I age.”

WIll blinks and goes to put on a large pot of coffee. 

Hannibal seems to take the hint because he continues his explanation only after Will has drunk. 

He signs, “I can speak, but if I’m in the water you’ll obey everything I say.”

Will takes a sip to stop the sudden ache. He blinks in rapid succession. 

Hannibal is impassible, enumerating information as if they mean nothing, but Will sees the stiffness in his tail, the tense muscles. “I became like this when…”

Will drops the cup to grab Hannibal’s hands, splashing water around. Hannibal clings. Will says, “It’s okay, it’s okay, you don’t need to tell me that.” 

Hannibal’s eyes are wider than usual, his hands are lightly shaking. Will lets them go and Hannibal tries to sign something else, but Will reaches for his teeths, tracing the sharp edges with his fingers. Then Will leans forward and kisses Hannibal’s cheek, soft and sweet. 

“It’s okay.” He brings their forehead together. “I know.”

And somehow it actually is okay. 

If Will isn’t the only one who wants to overshare, if Hannibal is emotionally right there with him, then they can make it work. Somehow. 

He laughs. “You know, it’ll be easier if you just stopped killing.”

Hannibal blinks slowly, once, but Will is too close, he doesn’t have enough space to answer.

Or more precisely, Will thinks, Hannibal can’t answer without risking to order Will around, and apparently he doesn’t want to do it, or he wouldn’t have avoided it since the very beginning...

Will feels light. He impulsively jumps into the water, hugging Hannibal tightly. He isn’t the most foolish between the two of them. 

Hannibal tugs to free his hands from Will’s grip, arching an eyebrow. Will says, “No, you’re not ruining the moment with more talking,” and winks. 

Hannibal snorts and licks Will’s lips, pulling an undignified shriek out of him.

* * *

Will moves his fishing equipment, some books and a lot of canned food to the cave, and he sleeps there almost every night. 

He switches on his mobile only at the end of the month, and finds three text from Jenny and one from George. They had invited him to try the boat, but he has missed the day. 


	10. February

Eventually, Will runs out of gasoline for the heater and has to reluctantly go back to the shop. Jenny greets him as a long lost relative. 

“Wiiiiillllllll!!!!!!! I’m so happy to see you!” She takes in his appearance. “Wild, but happy. I saw you made peace with your boyfriend!”

Will feels himself blushing, and Jenny reddens too, laughing. “Sorry, that’s the last comment about it. I’m just glad you two are okay.”

Suddenly, there’s a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Will, the man I wanted. Are you coming to try my boat, or not?”

Will manages not to flinch, and steps away from the hand. “George.”

Jenny looks at Will closely. “If you prefer to do anything else, you’re not obligated.”

George says, “Nonsense, he loves boats. When are you coming, Will?”

Will is about to mechanically decline, but when he opens his mouth he realizes that he actually would like to see the engine. 

He hesitates for a moment too long, because Jenny notices and interrupts him. “Well, actually… I was waiting for you to come to go myself. On Sunday there should be a storm, so there won’t me much else to do.” She widens her eyes and theatrically flutters her eyelashes at Will. “Would you keep me company?”

That sounds… nice, actually. Will says, “I’ll think about it,” which satisfies George. 

Alone with Jenny, Will asks, “A storm, uh?”

Jenny winks, “Well, you always come here when it’s raining. Either you're free in those days, or you’re a storm god. Since I do actually want to get to know you, it seemed worth a try to tell you the weather forecast.”

She grins, unaware of how amazing it is that she can express her feelings so easily. 

Will leaves the shop smiling.

* * *

It isn’t exactly that Will asks permission… but it feels like that. Oh well, that isn’t the most unhealthy part of their relationship. 

Hannibal regards him with steady eyes. 

Then he signs, “Go,” surprising both of them. 

Will kisses his knuckles. 

* * *

It’s Jenny that comes to pick Will up with the shop van and that drives them both to the house. Or, more precisely, at the boatshed under the cliff. 

There, she heads straight for the boat and gets in. Will looks at her disappearing form, then follows with a sigh. He hopes she knows what she's doing. 

The guests and George arrive shortly after, coming from a lift that connects the house to the boatshed. The lift is built inside an artificial hole in the rocks and is impressive; Will wonders how out of his dept he has been not to notice it during his stay. 

Jenny sees his puzzlement and explain, even if she explains the wrong bit. “My parents and George are very good friends, he always tells me to just get in, no ceremonies. Well, actually, he prefers me not to wait outside, because of that one time I got dizzy and risked to fall.” She cuts Will’s reply off. “Don’t you dare say anything. I have my meds, I know how to handle myself, I don’t need another person to tell me what I can’t do.”   
Will can relate. 

* * *

The weather is stormy, but the boat is solid and warm. It’s also filled to the brink with science equipment. And too many people.

George is excited to introduce his guests to what he calls “his usual science team”, which consists in three people. They look more friends than scientists, except for they have a whole lot of publications under their belt. Apparently, George loves to fill his tank with fish, but also to study it.

“Someone needs to tell me how to keep the fishes alive,” he tells the guests with a wink. 

The tallest of his friends answer, “Yes, well, we need to keep an eye on you, or our promising projects will be dead in a day or two.”

“Oh, come on, that happened once.”

“Well, we learnt that it’s better to come here often and uninvited. To check.”

“And not because you likes my wine cellar, I reckon.”

The teasing is gentle, speaks of a long friendship. Will relaxs. Maybe one day he will have that too, he thinks, looking at Jenny. That the prospect doesn't terrify him is probably a minor miracle.

Will stays mostly silent, sipping hot chocolate and eating canapès to do something with his hands. Having a large group of people there is actually helpful, since he can avoid a direct conversation with George and concentrate on the boat and the equipment. He really likes it. 

Jenny keeps close, occasionally chatting with him. It’s surprisingly nice, to hear the storm outside and to be lulled by the waves and the low chattering.

Will is content to look the fishes out of the small windows, but he misses Hannibal. 

Then, George comes closer and conspiratorially shows him a picture. “What do you think? A friend of mine took it few months ago.”

In the photo, Hannibal’s tale is clear in the distance, while his human torso is facing away. 

Will’s heart skips a beat. 

Jenny says, “Oh, come on, it must be fake!”

“Cross my heart, it isn’t. Don’t spread the word, but,” he claps his hands on their shoulders, “we're going to specifically look for it.”

Will manages a nod, but the world is echoing weirdly around him. Je tells Jenny he doesn’t feel well, and fortunately George drops them off immediately.

* * *

Hannibal isn’t alarmed. “They have seen me many times. They have never caught me.”

Will imagines how Hannibal slipped away in those situations. With blood and teeth. 

“Please, hide.” His hands shake too much to sign.

“I’ll stay with you,” says Hannibal, and Will can breathe again. “I'll be safe. You’ll kill anyone who will lay a finger on me.”


	11. March

They hide in the cave during the whole month of March, so swimming together is impossible. 

Will compensates by buying a lot of books and reading them to Hannibal, one hand turning the pages, the other in Hannibal’s hair.

The first day of their retirement, when Hannibal first presses Will’s hand to his cheek, Will blushes to the tip of his ears. Hannibal notices, judging by the mischief in his eyes, so Will kisses him on the cheek in revenge, and Hannibal stills, startled. 

Soon those touches become part of their routine, familiar and comforting as holding hands. 

Will doesn't fish, because going out feels like a betrayal, and lives off the money George gave him for his work. 

Between one book and the other, they find some exercises that can be done both in and out of the water. To his surprise, Will discovered that he's the more flexible of the two.

It's cozy, and Will keeps the worry under control. 

* * *

The next time he goes to the shop, Jenny waves at him enthusiastically and tells him that the scientific team is about to leave. She's very excited about some sort of crab they discovered, but Will only listens to half of it. 

She also explains that George is dejected because they didn't find the merman, and that he's decided the picture was a joke. 

Will smiles. 

* * *

April comes, sunnier and warmer than usual, and to Will's delight he doesn't even need his suit to get into the water. 

Swimming again is wonderful, especially when he accidentally splashes Hannibal, who frowns in outrage. Will does it again on purpose, but then Hannibal remembers that he has a tail and Will stands no chances.

They float in the water until late evening, when the sun is setting. Orange is everywhere, in the sky, in Hannibal’s eyes. Will wants to stay there forever.

A siren goes off. 

There is a boat, and it's too close. 

Hannibal grabs Will and dives underwater, and for a moment his tail is almost vertical over the surface, and there's no way they haven't seen it. Going down, Hannibal splashes the water, raising a wall of white foam that hides them until they're too low to be seen clearly. Will realizes that Hannibal is trying to hide him, not himself. He would like to protest, but he may disrupt Hannibal’s rhythm and he doesn't dare. 

Hannibal hurries towards their cave, but Will’s weight is slowing him down and the boat comes closer. 

Will thinks they may actually make it, when Hannibal's entire frame twitches. 

Hannibal speaks. “Hold your breath for as long as you can.” His voice echoes all around Will, carried by the water. It's affectionate. It’s warm and enchanting, and Will must obey. His lips moves on their own will, sealing his mouth and any possible protests. “Don’t let them see you.” Yet Will can still look at Hannibal, pleading. There's something wrong, Hannibal’s eyes are losing focus, Hannibal closes them, and murmurs. “Run away, go home.”

Will’s heart breaks, but still he must turn away and go. 

Hannibal’s orders carry him forward, to safety, lungs burning but holding the air he needs. He would like to check if Hannibal is injured, but he can't, because they may see him and Hannibal ordered him not to be seen. 

He emerges only when he’s in the cave, taking painful gulps of air. He wants to swim out again, steal a boat, take a knife and gut whoever dared to divide him from Hannibal, but he can’t. His feet carry him towards his house, as he must do, because that idiot of a merman decided to control Will, and not the hunters, before passing out. 

An unnecessary action, and the one which finally makes it sink in. Hannibal is in love with Will, and now Will has lost him. 

* * *

When Will reaches his house, his mobile is ringing on the table. 

He picks it up out of habit, mind empty.

It’s a message from Jenny.

“THEY FOUND THE MERMAN!!!!! Or so they say. Care to come around to see him? I need to carry the equipment there asap. George looks as if he’s about to have a heart attack.”

Will wants to go, of course, but Hannibal’s last order is still imprinted into his brain. Go home. 

Will feels slightly hysterical, because the house is empty, but his swimming suit is in a corner, and the mushrooms that Hannibal likes are in the fridge, and the flashcards they had studied together are over a shelf. All memories now.

Will freezes. Home. Hannibal had specifically said home.

He wants to roll his eyes at himself, because, really?

It’s cheesy. But this storage building isn't his home. Hannibal is. And Hannibal told him to go home.


	12. April

Jenny comes to pick him up in his house in a small van with the shop’s logo. She waves cheerfully from the car, but when Will hops in she frowns. “What did he do now?”

Will was sure he had been able to dissimulate his emotions when he was  a cop. But maybe, and he blinks at the realization, he didn't have friends. And he’s about to endanger his friend, involving her into his not-yet-planned rescue.

He sighs. Instead of answering, he says, “If you take me there, I'll get you in trouble.

Jenny takes a hard, long look at his face. She nods. "I'll do it. Anything you need to know?"

Will swallows around the lump in his throat. He will repay her, take the blame. Maybe pretend he forced her, if worst comes to worst.

"What are we carrying?"

She starts the engine, and adamantly refuses not to smile.

"Some sort of fancy underwater recording device. Looks like a huge mic. George takes mermaids seriously." She winks. 

Will thinks. They're bringing Hannibal a mic. Sounds promising.

"Oh, a plan is coming, I see it in your eyes. Do I have a role in it?"

Will blinks. He should really try to hide his emotions better, but at the same time being read like that is weirdly reassuring.

"Would you pretend to faint in front of George?"

The familiar name is weird on his tongue.

She considers it. "Okay. I suppose it must be bad enough that he has to carry me home, to my meds? Possibly I should cling to him so it doesn't occur to him to send you?" Her expression is very incongruous with the seriousness of the situation. "What? Don't you think I had an emergency strategy to get out of school early?"

Will snorts in spite of the worry.   


* * *

The house is visible from the road, suspended at the top of the cliff in the twilight light. It's dark and imposing, straight out of a fairytale, or a nightmare. It's currently empty, a cursed home calling for his lost tenants.

Then, as they come closer, the lights lit, and Will is back to the here and now. 

They must have already transferred Hannibal inside.   


* * *

There's only George's car outside, which is good. The captors must have come by boat. George himself opens the door. When Will says "Jenny...", worrying his shirt and breathing heavily, George is out and running to the car before Will could even finish his sentence. He knows he should feel ashamed at his act, but the guilt is nowhere to be found as George gives him vague indications about where to leave the equipment and speeds down the hill.

Will blocks the gate with the van, so that George, or anyone else, won’t have an easy access to the house, then heads inside with the box containing the microphone. 

The house is completely silent apart from some distant voices. Will follows them to a room where three people are fussing with some sort of equipment.  Will thinks he remembers two of them from the cruise. 

Beside them there’s a stunning tank, which  covers the entire wall of the room, dominating the assorted soft sofas and small tables currently covered in cables and assorted instruments. The tank is lit from inside, and the small spotlights shine over a number of colorful fishes.

In the furthest corner of the tank, there’s Hannibal. Will didn't see him at first glance because he's curled on himself, impassive. His rigid stance screams of fear. 

Will realizes he has frozen in place and steps over the threshold, towards Hannibal, forcing himself not to fret or to look anything but surprised. Not angry, not nervous, not worried. 

As soon as he enters the room, Hannibal’s eyes snaps to Will, and he straightens. Will ignores how the other people turn to him, because the burning red in Hannibal's eyes is unfocused, and his emotions, usually hidden under the surface, are bare. Hannibal is burning with fury. 

“Oh, the mic! Thank goodness!”

Someone takes the box from his hands, as Will's anger builds. He has expected to find Hannibal drugged, because how else Hannibal would have ended up trapped? But even if rationally it makes sense, it's still infuriating.

_ And they have him only because he saved me,  _ Will thinks. 

He fakes a charming smile. “Why! Was it real then? A merman?”

The three people start to talk at the same time, too excited to pay attention to what Will is doing. He advances towards the tank, giving his back to the rest of the room. 

“After a month of searching, we found him during our surprise visit…”

“What a surprise, indeed!”

“Can’t believe our luck!”

Will is tempted to smash the glass and let the water flood the room. Hannibal would attack them and they would pay for taking him away. 

Hannibal smiles slowly at him, pleased, ready to lunge. 

Instead, Will signs, “I’ll take you out.”

Hannibal’s eyes narrow. 

Apparently, the microphone is expensive enough to be assembled in record time, because one of the men, still chatting, pushes a ladder to Will’s left. He climbs to a small panel above the water, where he can enter the long arm of the mic into the tank. 

“Finally we can discover if it’s sentient.”

Hannibal's eyes widens when recognizes the device. Calculating. Cold. The drug isn't slowing him down; if anything, it's bringing out his instinct. 

Hannibal is in the water. He could order them to do anything. He could tell the men to kill each other with the cutter they have used to open the box, or maybe with their bare hands. He could tell Will to kill them. 

Will feels a thrill of anticipation at the though. 

Plausible deniability. A kill outside of his control. The satisfaction, without the guilt. 

Will could show the knife to Hannibal and let the events unfold, following his urge to kill whoever tried to separate them; or he could tell the man to stop, not to lower the mic, giving away his chance of breaking him free and stopping Hannibal’s murders forever. 

What he does instead is a leap of faith. Because he wants Hannibal, and he doesn’t want to kill innocents, and he must at least try to have both. He signs at Hannibal. “Please. Don’t. I just want to stay with you.”

_ I don’t want to live with the guilt every day for the rest of my life. _

The mic splashes into the water. Hannibal swims closer, looks at Will. 

“Please.”

Hannibal's eyes still burn, but part of it belongs to Will. He speaks. 

“Will, if you may, cover your ears for a moment.”

Will does. Hannibal’s mouth moves, and the men blink, confused, then their eyes unfocus and they lie down on the floor, staring unmoving at the ceiling.

Will’s legs fold under him. He smiles.

“You…”

Hannibal looks annoyed. Yeah, well, he just didn’t kill three people, must be exhausting after a lifetime of violence. Will giggles. He suspects it’s a bit hysterical. 

Hannibal frowns. “Stop being silly and let me out.”

His voice is warm and low, and Will loves how it comforts him. Will is still smiling as the orders kick in, and the smile widens when Hannibal flinches. The order was accidental. Oh, well, Hannibal’s drugged, he can’t be perfect. 

Will has to stop moving, in spite of the order, because he doesn't know what to do. 

He giggles again. “How did you get in there?”

Hannibal growls in frustration, and it shouldn’t be that funny. “I don’t know. You’re the human, do something!”

The order kicks in again, and Will laughs aloud. “I’m doing something, Hannibal. Breathing.”

Before Hannibal loses his last shred of patience, Will looks around. After a small search, he finds it. Hidden under a wood panel, there's a smaller tank which can be attached and detached from the main one through a watertight seal. 

The seal is currently open, so Hannibal hops in, somewhat uncoordinated, and glares at Will, daring him to joke over it. Hannibal is out of the reach of the mic now. 

Operating the controls of the seal isn't difficult, but it isn't easy either. Will sobers up, starting to worry. How much time has passed? Surely at least half an hour. How much time left do they have?

Hannibal is sitting on the bottom of his small tank, simply watching Will as he fumbles to get the container moving. The tank can move directly into the internal elevator and down the cliff, or at least it could if Will managed to pull the right lever. 

Finally, the engine buzzes to life and the tank slips sideway, on its way to the elevator. Will smiles and turns to Hannibal. 

He has less than a second to register how Hannibal’s eyes are wide and savage and how he is pressing his body against the glass, before two arms are choking him from behind. 

Will kicks, enough to conquer a mouthful of air, but the arms strengthen around him. 

“What did you do?”

George’s voice is almost unrecognizable for the rage. Will understands it. Discovering Jenny is lying, walking into his house, his friends on the floor, Will stealing his his prize. He knows how he looks like.  George is strong, and Will's arms grow more and more uncoordinated, as his blows don't seem to obtain any result. He wants to apologize to Hannibal. 

Something crashes, loud enough that Will hears it over the pounding of his ears. The seam of his trouser is splashed and pierced by small shreds of glass, and he can breath. 

He falls to the floor, coughing, clutching his throat, and sees Hannibal. He's lying in a puddle in the floor, wrestling with George on the ground, teeth bared, about to rip George’s throat off. 

Will doesn’t think, and lunges. 

He rolls with Hannibal in a mess of wet carpet and splinters, narrowly avoiding to impale his eye in a bigger shred of glass, Hannibal’s sharp teeth scratching his shoulder. He is remotely aware of some steps fading away, when Hannibal bites deeper and the skin breaks. Will stops struggling. He tilts his chin down and sideways to look at Hannibal. 

Red splattered on his face, unfocused red on his eyes. Dangerous. Free. Alive. 

Will feels alive, too. 

Will smiles down at him, and says, “Thank you.”

Hannibal blinks and stares. 

Then his teeth retracts, and at first Will thinks it’s Hannibal moving away, but immediately after Hannibal coughts, and his whole body trembles, and suddenly Will, scared out of his mind, is sitting with Hannibal on his lap, watching him twitch without the faintest idea of what to do. Hannibal’s tale splits into two legs, his skin loses the green undertone. Will doesn’t care, focusing on Hannibal’s ragged breathing, willing him to be okay. He holds Hannibal as he changes, until his breath are regular and there’s a man in Will’s lap. 

A man, Hannibal, who doesn’t leave Will any time to process the event before flinging himself outside of the door, as if called by a distant voice. 

Will can only raise and run after him. 

Outside, the sea is screaming in the otherwise quiet night. The moon lits the angry waves, letting Will see the outline of each single drop, even if between him and the water there’s a fucking long dive. 

Hannibal stands at the edge of the cliff, staring at a single boat who’s running away in the distance. His whole body is tense, ready to jump. 

The pendulum swings, and Will sees Hannibal as a kid, centuries before, on that same cliff, watching his sister’s killers escape, summoning the power to chase them. The past and the present overlaps perfectly.

Will’s heart breaks. Hannibal’s going to leave him, picking once again revenge over humanity. 

Will reaches out. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal turns, his eyes dart from the ship to Will and back to the ship again. George is running away and soon he’ll be out of sight. There’s only a tiny, small shred of doubt in Hannibal, and Will doesn’t know how to reach him. He wants to say that George won’t be believed, not without a merman. Not without witnesses. He won’t be believed when the police will discover his friends are alive and passed out on the floor. 

That won’t get through Hannibal’s unfocused eyes. 

So Will extends his hand, a silent plea, like he did the first time Hannibal came to him. Will knows that this is the moment. If Hannibal reaches back for him now, they’ll be together forever. If he doesn’t… It hurts to even think about it. 

The first time Hannibal has reached out, he has been curious. Will can only hope now he’s committed. 

Hannibal stares at the hand without blinking, and his eyes clear. 

Then, a step forward, away from the edge. And another. And another. 

Their hands touch again, and Hannibal is still cold as the ocean, inevitably breaking through Will’s barriers to his core. 

Will doesn’t know what he’s saying, but he grips the hands harder, then he clings. 

Hannibal whispers into his ear. “Yes, I’m taking you home.”


	13. Epilogue

Sharing a home with Hannibal, it turns out, is much more frivolous than Will would have expected. For all his speed, Hannibal is unused to walk with two legs, keeps bumping into things, wobbling, losing his grip on dry things, forgets his teeth are now normal sized and tries to eat raw meat directly from the bone. 

Will wouldn’t want it any other way. 

One week after he and Hannibal, still shaky and drugged, crawled into their cave and cuddled together until exhaustion hit them, George comes to Will's house with a sheepish smile. 

He flinches when he looks at Will, and Will remembers the bruises. George brings a hand on his neck. "I'm not sure what had happened after you brought the mic inside, I think we were all too drunk to know. But I think I attacked you. I'm sorry, that was unacceptable. I'm lucky you didn't call the police."

Will feels a pang of guilt, but then he hears a movement from the inside of the house and the regret evaporates. He has chosen. 

"Nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

George seems about to add something, but Will decides that this is the best moment to introduce Hannibal to him, because the costernation will keep him from recognizing the merman.

"In fact, I'm more than fine." Will adds an embarrassed laugh, which is only partially feigned. "Do you want to meet my boyfriend?"

As if on cue, Hannibal stumbles out of the house, looking for the reason why Will is late in coming back inside. George blinks once, two times, and maybe there's a spark of recognition, but Will catches his attention again by coughing and bringing a hand over the bruises. George's guilt overrides any other thoughts. 

He shakes Hannibal’s hand, then looks again at Will's neck. He bites his lips. "Uh, oh, I'd better go then. Bye."

Will stares after him for a moment, a little bit uneasy for using George's conscience against him. 

Then Hannibal’s hands are on his arm, and Will smiles helplessly. 

* * *

They do all the things that couples do. Walking together on the beach. Staring in silence at the ocean. Cuddling in the sunset.

It’s while they’re drowning in the golden and orange light that Will asks, “Are you going back?”

Hannibal, whose voice never fails to make Will shiver, says “What for?” He passes an arm behind Will’s shoulders, and Will can hear the implied ‘all I need is here’ just fine.“It seems that a new place has been made for the snowflakes.”

Will rests his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. “”Will they melt?”

“Is it important?” Without waiting for an answer, Hannibal licks Will’s exposed arm, then goes for his face. Will pushes him back with an undignified shriek and they end up in a pile, laughing. 

No, it isn’t important anymore. Because Will has faced temptation, and dragged both Hannibal and himself on the other side, unscathed. He can do that again, if he has too. For as many times as he needs to.

* * *

Retrospectively, it takes them a really long time to kiss. 

It may be because they are already sharing so much, they couldn't believe there could be more. Or maybe Hannibal is unused to have normal sized teeth. Or maybe it's because of the way Will freezes, shivers on his skin, unable to do more, every time they hold hands. 

They sometimes still use hand gestures, mostly out of habit. 

Jenny occasionally comes to visit them. She blinks the first time that Hannibal uses sign language, then grins. “Will Graham, you're in deep.” 

And that's all she says or asks, changing the subject when Will tries to offer an explanation or to thank her. 

“Be happy forever, that's all I want,“ she says and Will feels so incredibly lucky. Remembering where he was just one year before, what he has now seems impossible. 

The happiness is still there when they wave goodbye to Jenny. The next words are inevitable, because Will is just stating the obvious. 

“I love you.” 

Hannibal touches his cheek in answer, his hand still cold on his skin. The coldness is the only sign left of the years he spent in the ocean, and Will loves it as much as the first time. Coldness, cooling his frenzies, giving him a level head. Keeping it there, with Hannibal. 

He covers Hannibal’s hands, still smiling, when Hannibal speaks. 

“I love you and I'll love you forever, Will.”

The words hit Will like a blow, except it's happiness, all happiness. The opposite of numbness, of expecting only bleakness in the future. And if those feelings will come back, Will won't have to face them alone. 

Will leans forward, kissing Hannibal. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reaching the end :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> If you want to see a very cool art by @brokenfannibal go [here](https://fhimechan.tumblr.com/post/174439064562/brokenfannibal-hannigram-thingy-for-mermay-i) ;)


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